XVII
_AT HEADQUARTERS_
Agatha was well-nigh exhausted by the terrible strain she had endured.She could scarcely sustain herself in the saddle, as she and Baillie setout, her maid riding a-pillion behind her. She would have liked--if shehad dared risk it--to keep the silence of extreme weariness during thejourney to Stuart's headquarters, two or three miles away, but in factshe talked incessantly, in a hard, constrained voice, limiting theconversation strictly to external matters. She asked her companion abouthis battery, the number and character of his guns, how many men he mighthave under his command, the nature of his duties, and many other things,chatter about which served as a substitute for the more personalconversation that she was determined to avoid. She was fencing forposition, and her purpose was plain enough to Baillie Pegram, but atthe end of the ride the girl herself was more inscrutably a riddle tohim than she had been before. For just as they arrived, and when it wastoo late for him to say any word in reply, she suddenly turned to him,and said:
"Before we part, Captain Pegram, I want to thank you for all you havedone for me, and still more for what you have felt--I mean your wish tosave me. I am very grateful, but--"
There she broke off, leaving him to torture himself with almostmaddening conjectures as to what should have followed that bewildering"but."
At that moment Stuart, who had heard of the capture and was waiting,came hurriedly from the piazza of his headquarters to greet and welcomethe arriving pair. With strong arms he lifted the girl from her saddleand placed her on her feet, as he might have done with an infant child.For he was a giant in strength, and his muscles were as obedient to hiswill as were the troopers who so eagerly followed him in every fray.
Seeing the girl's bedraggled condition, and understanding how sorelyshaken her nerves must be, he made no reference to the circumstances ofher coming, but cheerily said:
"I am doubly fortunate, Miss Agatha, in having you again for a visitor,and in having the ladies of my household with me just now; for God blessthese Virginia women," addressing this part of his remark to CaptainPegram, "they are always with us when we need them."
With that he hurried Agatha into the house, and placed her in femininecharge, with orders that she should have food and rest and sleep, andespecially that she should not be annoyed by any questionings until suchtime as she should herself desire to speak with him.
"You will remain with us to dinner, Captain Pegram, if you please. Thereare matters about which I wish to talk with you."
When the two were left alone, he said:
"Tell me, now, all you know about how Miss Agatha became yourprisoner--the details, I mean."
When Baillie had finished the narrative, expressing wonder that the girlhad passed unharmed through that hailstorm of canister, Stuart said,simply:
"I'm glad your gun practice was no better."
"So am I," the young man answered.
It was not until late in the afternoon that Stuart was summoned to meethis guest, who was also his prisoner. She had in the meantime divestedherself and her maid of their burden, and the precious drug had beencarefully packed for shipment under guard to Richmond. She had alsoslept long and well after her breakfast, and was now as fresh and asfull of spirit as if she had known no hardship, and passed through nodanger.
Before the dinner hour, Stuart had taken pains to send away all themembers of his staff, each upon some errand manufactured for theoccasion. At dinner there was no one present but his own family, Agatha,and Captain Baillie Pegram.
Stuart was all eagerness to learn not only the results, but the detailsof the perilous journey, and to that end he required Agatha to begin atthe beginning and relate each day's experience. She did so, explainingthe arrangements she had made for her underground railway, and tellinghim of a plan she had formed to give to that line a number of termini atvarious points in Virginia, each under charge of some trusty "Dixiegirl," in order that there might be no interruption of the traffic,whatever the future movements of the two armies might be.
"It's the very crookedest railroad you ever heard of, General," sheadded, when her account of it was finished, "but I expect it to do aconsiderable traffic. I am to be its general freight agent, and I haveimpressed all my agents with the fact that the preservation of oursecret is of far greater importance than the safe delivery of any oneconsignment of goods. They will take plenty of time at every step, andnot risk discovery for the sake of speed."
"That is excellent. But I wish I had suggested to you to make somearrangement by which you might--"
"O, I did that," she interrupted. "I took a leaf out of your book. Ofcourse, it will often be possible to get little letters through, butletters are very dangerous--at least, when they say anything. So I havetaken your signal-words as my model, and laboriously constructed asystem by which I can say the most dangerous things in a letter withoutseeming to say anything at all."
"By signal-words?"
"Yes, partly, but more in other ways."
"For example?"
"Well, if I send a foolish, chattering girl's note about nothing, and Ihappen to write it in a 'back hand,' that fact will tell mycorrespondent what I want to tell her. So if I write in an ordinaryhand, that will mean something quite different. In the same way, if Iwrite, 'My dear Mary,' it will signify one thing, while 'Dear Mary' willmean another; I've arranged fourteen different forms of address, eachhaving its own particular meaning. The punctuation will mean something,too, and the way I sign myself, and the colour of my ink, and theoccasional slight misspelling of a word--all these and a dozen otherthings are carefully arranged for, so that I can tell a friend prettynearly anything I please, while seeming only to tell her the colour ofmy new gown--if I ever have a new gown again--or anything else of thekind that girls are fond of writing letters about."
"But you and all your correspondents must have copies of your code forall this. Isn't there great danger that one or another of them may bediscovered?"
The girl laughed before answering.
"Even you, General Stuart, must have found out that it is difficult todiscover what is in a young woman's mind. This code exists nowhere elsein the world. We've all learned it by heart, and can recite it backwardor forward or even sideways. No word of it has ever been written down onpaper, or ever will be. You gentlemen are fond of saying that we womencannot keep a secret. You shall see how well we keep this."
"O, as to that," answered Stuart, "I never shared any such belief. Why,women keep secrets so well that we never know even what they think ofus. Is not that so, Captain Pegram?"
"Yes, and perhaps it is fortunate for us, too, sometimes."
"But I did betray a secret to Captain Pegram this morning," Agathacontinued, speaking gravely now. "He seemed so troubled at having toarrest me under the circumstances in which I seemed to have placedmyself, that I relieved his mind by telling him I was acting under yourorders, or, at least, with your consent."
"Perhaps you'd like to prefer charges against the captain? I dare say hewas very stern and inconsiderate."
Instantly the girl flushed, and speaking with unusual seriousness, sheanswered:
"I beg to assure you, General Stuart, that Captain Pegram was altogethergenerous and kind to me--far more so than I had a right to expect. I cannever sufficiently thank him."
To Baillie, this speech was inscrutable and bewildering. It might meanone thing, or another--much or little--according to the interpretationput upon the words. It might refer only to Baillie's care for herphysical comfort and safety, or, as Baillie scarcely dared believe, itmight obliquely include in its intent, an acknowledgment of thepassionate declaration of love that he had been betrayed into making. Itmight be interpreted to mean that the words surprised from his lips werenot unwelcome to her who had heard them. She had bidden him forget whathe had said, but might it not be that she herself remembered and wasnot displeased with the recollection?
He resolved to ask her for the answer to that riddle at the earliestpossible mom
ent, but for the present he flushed crimson and kept silent.
Stuart, however, had accomplished his purpose. He had found out, orbelieved that he had found out, what he wished to know concerning theattitude of these two toward each other, and he was mightily pleasedwith the discovery. He abruptly changed the course of the conversation.
"When would you like to go to your home, Miss Agatha?"
"I should like to set out early to-morrow, General, if I may--if I amreleased from arrest."
"O, I shall not release you yet. You are much too dangerous aconspirator for that. I shall send you home under guard, and I haveselected Captain Pegram to be your safe-keeper. I shall send him withyou, under orders to remain at Willoughby for a week, keeping you underclose surveillance. If at the end of that time he finds you sufficientlysubdued, he will have orders to put you on parole, and return to hiscommand. As he and you are 'almost strangers,' he will be a safer judgeof the propriety of releasing you than any other officer I could sendfor that purpose."
The two were sorely embarrassed by this announcement, coming as it didwithout warning to either. Neither knew what to say, or whether thearrangement was welcome or unwelcome to the other. The suddenannouncement of it, at any rate, was very embarrassing to both, andPegram received it with a feeling of consternation for the moment. Inthe next instant, he realised the opportunity it would give him to renewthe morning's conversation, and to learn definitely what Agatha'sattitude toward him was to be after such a declaration as he had made.For whatever else happens, an avowal of that kind, made with suchearnestness, never fails to work some change in a true woman's mind andsoul. Baillie managed, with some difficulty, to say:
"I will be glad to carry out your orders, General."
Agatha said nothing. What she thought and felt, it would be idle toinquire.
The Master of Warlock: A Virginia War Story Page 17